


a truth in blood and bone

by highfaenyx



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Love and Lies, a meditation on how we are all monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22893457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfaenyx/pseuds/highfaenyx
Summary: She is all sparkles and smirks, red cheeks and laugh, and people cannot help but fall for her.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	a truth in blood and bone

_You are all blood and bone, terror and coldness, and I don’t know how you ended up being a human at all._

I watch Noelle giving the bottle a spin; we are lounging on the floor of an apartment which belongs to a friend of a friend of yet another friend. If I were back home, we could as well call him _cousin_ , but home is half a world away, and I’ve learned a long ago that people here don’t work that way.

The bottle stops, and points at me.

I sigh.

She looks at me with a concealed question in her eyes. I would call it _hope_ , but she isn’t a creature of hope. Or habit.

I reach and give her a peck on lips. My girlfriend pretends not to pay attention; but I see a gleam of jealousy in her gaze as she averts her eyes. I am tired.

Noelle’s lips are dry and soft, and I fight an urge to capture them for real. I think she does, too.

The struggle is all too familiar, but I resist, while I can, all in vain.

I don’t love Noelle. I don’t think anyone can, not truly.

She is all sparkles and smirks, red cheeks and laugh, and people cannot help but fall for her.

I know better.

Her gaze can see through everything, perhaps, even my lies; when she is angry, she is a terror in flesh; but when she is really angry, she is a snow queen personified, and I shudder, yield and run as far away as I can.

She burns like a star in deep waters, and enchants people with her blood and her bones, and it is almost impossible not to be swept away. Almost impossible, but I resist.

I lie, did I mention? Also to myself.

I leave my girlfriend curled on the couch, and venture into the darkness of the hallway. It’s long past midnight, and the house is quiet and dim.

She is in one of the empty rooms the host allowed us to spend the night in, and while I close the door, she looks at me as if she was expecting me all along. There is no surprise in her eyes, quite unlike me - I always seem to be perplexed when I end up pursuing her. She must know me better than I know myself, I think, and it is a lie with a grain of truth to it.

She looks at me with _hope_ , and I almost believe her.

“You needed the sense of belonging,” she says. “And I wasn’t enough.”

“No one is ever enough.”

I wonder if she believes me. Probably, yes; probably, _almost._

(I wonder if I believe myself, too.)

Her grin is sad. “Perhaps.”

I want to wipe the sadness away, away from her face and her stance she takes on so easily.

The tension between us is a lump in my throat, a darkness in her gaze, our ragged breath; always there, but here and now, in the silence of a home which is not even ours, it is tenfold.

So it is not really a surprise for neither of us when I coerce her into a hug, and nudge my nose into her neckline.

And then make amends for that pathetic excuse of a kiss.

Later, we lie naked on the bed, her back facing me, and I cannot guess if she is asleep or just pretending. I want to roll over, embrace her, whisper words of care, tenderness, affection. But I am a liar, and so instead I get up, sneak out and close the door.

Maybe, she cries herself to sleep (a weeping star in deep waters below). Maybe, she doesn’t spare a thought at all (a queen too distant to care).

I curl next to my girlfriend sleeping on the couch, resist my own urge to _care_. And find myself facing the same choice. She would not be surprised.

I am, though.

I am a liar, a deceiver, all crooked smiles and angles concealed by soft edges in my eyes, chaos and order in my movements. I don’t think anyone can love me.

Not truly.

Be honest with yourself, they say. Can anyone even comprehend what it is for someone who has lies running up his veins?

I open my mouth - and let it all out, and see my world crumbling under my feet. Noelle doesn’t tear her eyes from mine, watching from afar, and I am all too proud to admit that her gaze is my only anchor.

I bleed dry, until I have nothing left, and then - then I forge something new. It is an unfamiliar feeling, but the truth is an opposite of a lie, a negation of a lie, and lies were always my forte. So why not muster truths instead?

There is only one truth for me, though.

She is all blood and sparkles, laugh and coldness, fire and red cheeks, warm, sad eyes and smiles highlighting the universe. She is a monster, she is dancing in my arms, her eyes gleam with an unspoken _hope_ I’ve grown to believe, and I think I love her.

I love her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something original I decided to post. This is deeply personal, and is just how I see some of many facets of love. I hope it resonates with you as well :)


End file.
